


Something Stirring

by Chaotic_neutral_rebel



Series: Union of Unsound Minds [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BAMF Hermione Granger, Black Hermione Granger, Dom/sub Undertones, F/F, Not Epilogue Compliant, Out of Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-30
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-12-21 20:12:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11951757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chaotic_neutral_rebel/pseuds/Chaotic_neutral_rebel
Summary: Hermione feels the pressure of her day to day life as a star ministry employee and war hero weighing her down. She feels her frustration rising and it's starting to effect her life. She's desperate for something. Lucky for her it just so happens to be that time a year again, when she can let it all out.





	Something Stirring

**Author's Note:**

> No characters are mine. Input welcome.

It was an unusual sight to find prodigal student turned war hero Hermione Granger creeping down Knockturn Alley at twilight but that is exactly what a curious person could discover on this dark Sunday night. That is if the curious person was dedicated enough of course to break a solid glamour charm and see past the green eyes, blond hair and wrinkles. It would be very bad indeed if anyone found out about the true identity behind the mask. 

With a bright career at the ministry and lifetime friendships with members of the light she knew ultimately, her whole life of comfort and notoriety were at risk of destruction. All the good reasonable things in her life and yet she found herself once again down a road she didn't know how to ever escape from. It was a burning discontent that would grow day by day, with every passing moment she spent longing for something different, something not in line with what the wizarding world at large expected of the know- it- all member of the Golden Trio.

It had been 4 years since the end of the war, five since her time on the run and the encounter that would alter her future. She blamed that day for ruining her, leaving her unsatisfied with normalcy. She thought often times of how much her life was planned out from the moment she solidified her friendship with the famed Harry Potter and his ginger sidekick Ronald Weasley. As soon as she was thrown into the public eye the world only saw her one way, she was held to a different standard. As a hero she often used her power for good; swaying archaic laws to insure what allowed for Tom Riddle to blossom into the man he became will never occured again. But as is the way of the world change is slow and often frustrating for those that seek to change it. Her name helped sometimes with this as with it came titles and confidence, however as with most things in life it was definitely a double edged sword. Time after time she found she couldn't allow herself to be completely honest without some kind of backlash. She realises now that Rita skeeter was just the first in long line of tabloid writers looking to find the newest story to fuel the world's fascination with the boy who lived and by extension his best friends. 

With a hooked hood and ragged robe the hidden hero drudged her way through the winding walk way past the shady transactions, the patrons of too much firewhiskey and some dark creatures slithering among the brick and brim. After the war places like this once again became the final refuge to people sympathetic to the losing side and often became a hotbed to hate and anger. Although the aurors worked hard to put the worst of the worst behind bars many slipped through the cracks. She sometimes wonders how many would happily take her life if they knew it was her passing by them in the street. As dark eyes glanced her way she was assured once again none saw the truth underneath her disguise as she walked without interruption. With steps eased with familiarity she rounded tight corners and narrow streets to find her place. 

Finally a light in the darkness appeared or in this case a flickering fire lit in the windows of a lodging with a mix of customers. She made her way into the questionable but warm building. Quickly she cast the cold rain from her woolen cloak with a flick of knobed fingers. Keeping her head down she weaved around the rough atmosphere with it's scattered dilapidated furniture and heavy smoke of unknown origins. In one small corner a group of a haggard wizards played snap dragons. The tiny creatures like their fully grown cousins spewed puffs of smoke at each other to the amusement of the onlookers. She held in her look of disgust at the cruel display and carried on. 

When she reached the reception a house elf as old as dust with eyes a grey unseeing hue raised his chin in her direction.  
"I'm here for Salazar," she said in a heavy voice. His white eyes crawled through her and she wondered not for the first time if he could see right through every bit of magic she surrounded herself with. 

"Right this way Madame," the tiny being drawled back at her roughly. The elf turned and hobbled down a hazardous set of stairs attached to his chair. His thin hands reached out, grasping the wall once his feet reached the floor. Behind his cracked desk stood a large cabinet with dozens of keys, each in their own individual hole. With a hooked finger the elf pointed at the third row, four holes down. The key floated down to his finger tips and he reached towards the waiting women. She grasped the smooth metal and didn't react when it gave off a spark of recognition in her fingertips. 

As always she gave her thanks to the elf ignoring his lack of response and found her way to large a wall with engraved arch way. She stepped up to the brick and closed her eyes to paint a picture clearly in her mind. With a rush doors sped past, old oak ones, some with brass finishings and so on in an assortment of styles. Finally the spinning stopped at a black door with a large serpent knocker. She took the key in her hand and lifted it to an ancient lock. With a flick of her wrist a dozen gears cracked to life, bars as thick as her wrist clicked into place, and spells older than her and long forgotten enveloped her in a golden hue. 

The serpent's dark emerald eyes observing her shone with an unnerving understanding. The door wasn't at all to her taste, far too pretentious and cliche but obviously she didn't choose the design. She remembered long ago how the snake guarding the entrance had taken offence to her, probably a result of its maker, and snapped it brass teeth down on her finger tip. She still had the scar to remind her; for some reason it wasn't something she could bring herself to be rid of. It was like a reassurance that her time spent here was real and not some sick made up dream that was a result of one too many curses landing to her head during the war. 

With a creak and deep breath for her nerves she gave a solid push and quickly glanced at the disappearing patrons of the inn. Before her she could only make out the faintest of outline of a hallway twisting into the darkness. The room ahead of her held no light and creeped with a dreadful air. She.took her first step into the unknown beyond and balled her fist to stop the trembling. With a subtle breeze the door behind her shut disappearing as if it was never there in the first place. She found herself in blackness with no orientation and She pulled out her wand found that no matter the spell she cast no light would appear in the room to guide her. With frustration that comes with rarely being denied her way and just a tinge of fear of knowing Hermione reached her hand to her face. She confirmed what she knew already as she once again felt the smoothness in her cheeks and Up further she felt the untamable curly hair and signed. Ever resourceful she felt for the nearest wall and found it's cool rough texture.  
With only one direction to walk she stepped forward reminding herself of all the horror she witnessed and overcome to gather the famous Gryffindor courage she was known for. She wasn't some first year, she was Hermione granger the smartest witch of the age that fought in a war at 17, was the youngest head of any department and still faced discrimination and racism in the wizard and muggle world.  
She shuffled along quietly, keeping her ears tuned to every ounce of sound she could soak up. The building she was in had the qualities of an aged one. The smell of dust, the creak of the walls. It assured her she was in the right place. As her heartbeat picked up she counts the number of steps she takes and thumbs her wand in her pocket out of habit. As seconds turned into minutes with no end to the hallway in sight she felt her resolve start to crumble. 

With only her ears to guide her she stumbled through the long hallway hoping to find some end in sight. A loud grown halted her and she waited for the noise again. After a while she was almost convinced it was just her imagination making something out of nothing. Taking another step forward she soon would come to realise the danger was very much lurking in the darkness just out of sight and she was going to fall prey to it. 

In a pop she felt a presence behind her and gasped in surprise. She tried to turn around as quickly as possible her senses still heightened but she was a hair too slow as Soon claw like fingers wrapped like a vice around her neck and an icy breath crawled around into her ear. Her hands instinctively went to the greedy ones choking her. It took her a moment to register the body pressing into her back and a second hand that had snaked around her body and shifted her hips into the person behind her. 

“Godric,” the person purred, finally revealing themselves”what a pleasant surprise.”  
Hermione felt a thrill trickle down her spine, as fear and adrenalin mixed in her blood she felt ready for anything.  
With her head starting to spin and her vision greying at the edges, Hermione gasped out,”Bella, fuck me.”  
The other women smirked at the squirming war hero in her clutches and knew she'd win this round with the stubborn girl, “Muddy you know just how to make my day.”

And thus the infamous and very much alive Bellatrix Black took an incredibly turned on Hermione Granger to bed for a very long night and early morning. And when sun broke a rejuvenated and smiling Hermione left nockturn alley with a new outlook on her boring life as once again she felt motivated to change the wizarding world for the better. If she just so happened to have to glamour her chest, neck and wrist for the next few weeks to hide the array of purple that was just another price she'd very willingly have to pay.


End file.
